On January 5th of 1998, at the age of six, I died.

My name was Loraine Jenkins.

There is little I can remember about my old life, but I do remember my death.

It was night, the world lit by a full moon. I was awakened by the front door creaking open, a figure creeping past my bedroom. Standing on tiptoe, opening my door a crack, I peered out, watching as a man opened the silverware drawer, rummaging through it.

I was young and curious; I did not understand the danger.

I opened my door all the way, toddling out towards him. He wore a ski-mask and a black outfit, gloved hands as to not leave fingerprints.

“Who are you?” I murmured sleepily, raising my hand to rub my eyes.

He whirled around, a knife in his hand, and plunged it into my tiny chest.

I didn’t register the pain at first – I was too fascinated by the silver hilt attached to my front.

Blood began to slowly stain my nightgown, stark against the blue of the fabric.

“Sorry kid,” He grunted, sliding the blade out of my flesh.

I fingered the stained garment, my hands shaking. The world spun sharply; I fell to the wooden floor.

A hand took mine, a soothing voice comforting me.

***

That was thirteen years ago. I am now nineteen.

I live in Nevae, the Fourth Dimension.

There are seven dimensions.

The first is an unknown wasteland filled with spirits who refuse to leave the Earth.

The second is of pen and paper, the written word, the imagination of men and women. Dreams are born there.

The third is Earth, a world of living breathing people filled with wonder…and darkness.

The fourth is my world, Nevae. It is the realm of the Guardians.

You might call us ‘angels’

The fifth is paradise, heaven, the land of our Creator, our leader, our Lord.

The sixth is what you might call ‘hell’, a place of eternal fire and damnation.

I sit now, atop a pillar, overlooking the dreamscape that is Venendoa Valley; I am proud to call it home.

Unfurling my wings, I let the wind catch in them, my feet leaving the stone surface of the column.

My name is Iris, and I am a Guardian.

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Author guidance for This story

Based on a dream I had....

Note:

I realize now that I named the leader of the gang the name 'Fang'. He is in no way connected to my other story of the same name. Sorry for any confusion.

~VG~

updated Oct 1 '11 by VictoriaGlass